QNNETS OF LIFE 

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Class 'P S zu^ 

Copght N" 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



SONNETS OF LIFE 

BY 

JEANIE OLIVER SMITH 

(Temple Oliver) 

Author of ''Day Lilies", ''Story of Blackie", 

"Blackie's Companions'' and joint author 

with O. O. Auringer of a poetical 

life of "The Christ, from 

Advent to Ascension". 




BOSTON 

RICHARD G. BADGER 

THE GORHAM PRESS 
I9II 



Copyright, 19x1, by Jeanie Oliver Smith 



All Rights Reserved 






5^^ 



The Gorham Press. Boston, U. S. 



CI,A283287 



To my Aunt 
Mrs. McCree 

of 

Edinburgh 

This hook is dedicated 



CONTENTS 

Page 

The Century 9 

Reward of the Pen 1 1 

Marshal Huntington Bright 13 

John Howard Payne 15 

An Exotic 17 

Sunset on the Lake 19 

Good-Night and Good Morning 21 

The Cathedral's Lesson 25 

Nineteen Hundred and Two 29 

To the Aldines 31 

Carmen Sylva 33 

Loyalty 35 

To the ^'London Punch'^ 39 

Edward Rex 41 

Alexandra 43 

The Wife's Lament for Her Husband. . 45 

The Dismantled Christmas Tree 47 



CONTENTS 

Page 

The Assassin 51 

Between Lake and River 53 

To One Who Had Lived a Century . ... 55 

A Mystery 57 

Richard Watson Gilder 61 

The Rescued Palisades 63 

Legend Lore 6^ 

The Poplar 67 

The Angelus 71 



SONNETS OF LIFE 



THE CENTURY 

How shall we gauge or weigh the Century's 

store 
Of treasure science-gleaned, through earth 

and air, 
From zenith space to Nadir's hidden lair, 
Transmute by alchemy which men adore. 
Though shrouded in mysterious depths of 

yore 
Our quickened sense perceives. Now men 

may dare 
To search that wonder-birth, for God is 

there. 
In His own realm, the realm of Doubt no 

more. 

How rich that life which spans a century! 
Men gathered up the marvels of the years 
And called them miracles; but few could see 
The deeper meanings writ through all the 

spheres, 
That spark of fire in man, in flower and 

tree, 
That earnest of our immortality! 



REWARD OF THE PEN 

The sun had set. Night had begun its race. 
My mood despondent. Futile effort spent, 
Though every energy its purpose bent, 
In sun and cloud to win the honored place. 
Swift Pegasus disdained such light embrace. 
Why heed or care? Should one "pay too 

much rent." 
The dull-eyed oxen in their furrowed stent, 
Fret not for thong, nor change their stead- 
fast pace. 

Then came thy blossoms, pure beyond com- 
pare. 

The thought they whispered to my heart was 
this. 

These flowers so fragile that they cannot 
bear 

Night's finger-touch nor zephyr's gentlest 
kiss. 

From purple depths gave Hope's brave coun- 
tersign ; 

And made the glories of the summer — mine I 



II 



MARSHAL HUNTINGTON BRIGHT 

At rest! And thou wast one who knew no 

rest 
Whene'er thy blest activities could bring 
One gleam of comfort to the sorrowing, 
Or help a brother in his upward quest, 
A champion of the Right, thy souPs behest 
Was loyalty and truth, the power to fling 
A caustic pen at wrong, yet seize the wing 
Of rapture-thought to reach the mountain 

crest. 

O friend, who loved so well the wayside 
flowers 

Beside thy path, and bade fair thought- 
seeds grow 

Where others saw no bloom *neath winter's 
snow. 

Without thy smile how drear this world of 
ours ! 

Yet who — as thou— the rapture thrill could 
feel 

Of disembodied power, life's mysteries to 
unseal? 



13 



JOHN HOWARD PAYNE 

Years number few since one loved child of 

Song 
With royal honors to his home was brought, 
But all too late. Such fame in vain he 

sought, 
Such favor missed from all the lettered 

throng. 
Now, loyal hearts would seek to right the 

wrong. 
And bring their gifts, with tenderest feeling 

fraught ; 
And yet their gold and myrrh and tribute 

brought 
And told in stone, alas ! has waited long. 

He sang of home, but yet no home had he ! 
Too late such fond award to bring the glow, 
Or flush of ardent hope to cheeks of snow, 
Or charm us, now, by heaven-born min- 
strelsy. 
And yet, he may, who knows? from that high 

place 
See through it all our love's transfigured 
face. 



15 



AN EXOTIC 

Friendship is an Exotic. Once 'twas found 
On earthly soil. It chanced in heaven one 

day, 
An angel, in his universal sway 
Of man's domain, on deeds of mercy bound; 
Through azure distance, star-blent space 

around. 
Found 'neath the Tree of Life, a flowret 

gay, 

Its petals tinged with evening's sunset ray; 
He sent it floating earthward to the p^found. 

One culled the flower to wear upon her 

breast, 
But at her feet its snow-white petals fell; 
She found too soon it would not bear the 

test. 
So near a beating heart it could not dwell I 
The frost breath of reserve no shield might 

prove. 
The flower was Friendship, but its fruitage 

—LOVE ! 



17 



SUNSET ON THE LAKE 

How small Earth's spaces when the heart 

has wings. 
How, like the carrier dove it homeward flies 
To meet its comrades 'neath familiar skies 
And know the rapture thought which free- 
dom brings. 
And so this thought-dove, eager, onward 

springs 
With swift, sure pinion, grown ethereal-wise 
And cleaves the ambient air while daylight 

dies 
Freed in its flight from all detaining things. 

'Tis sunset on the lake. The leaves are still. 
The darkling wavelets seek the shore in play 
Clasp mimic hands and sing their roundelay, 
Till lost in mists they seek the mountain rill. 
Yet through the dark the flash of wings I 

see. 
All quivering with their thought-fraught 

ecstasy. 



19 



GOOD-NIGHT AND GOOD MORNING 



Our lives are tragedies. We sleep, we wake, 
As any babe with terror-fears bedight, 
When blindly groping through the empty 

night. 
It seeks its mother's brooding hand to take. 
And why? lest some mimosa tendril break 
That clasped our heart and made the dark- 
ness light, — 
The heavens star-studded to our mortal 

sight, 
The world all beautiful for Love's dear 
sake. 

We say ^'Goo<i-morning," lest some hope 
should die. 

Before the evening's close, and fond ^'Good 
night?" 

To ward some menaced ill, some soul's af- 
fright 

Of hidden foe that might in ambush lie ! 

To ships that pass we cry the glad ''All hailF' 

E'en though our cheeks should blanch and 
lips grow pale. 

21 



GOOD-NIGHT AND GOOD MORNING 
II 

We wish a *^glad new year,** lest In the folds, 
The petal folds that mark the days and hours, 
Some grief should lurk to blight the fairest 

bowers. 
And turn to blackness all that nature holds. 
We speak the *^ Bon-voyage,'* when space en- 
folds 
From sense and sight, awhile, and pray the 

powers 
Send winds beneficient and balmy showers. 
To guide in safety to far distant wolds. 

Oh human love! art thou a boon or bane? 
No boon, if lost in Being's futile close ; 
Blest boon, if steadfast faith o'er nature 

throws 
The hope of heaven to meet our loved again. 
No boon, if bounded by this little span, 
Blest boon if love's eternity we scan. 



23 



THE CATHEDRAL'S LESSON 
I 

Within the vast cathedral's shadowy light 
I walked among the humble reverent throng, 
Yet bended not the knee, nor deemed it 

wrong 
Those outward emblems of our faith to 

slight, 
'Tis but for weaklings or for babes they cite 
To have recourse to picture cross or thong 
For scourge or crown. How better far the 

song 
Of victor Joy. Since heaven all wrongs must 

right. 

The choral service, how it grandly swelled 
How reverence grew, beneath that lofty 

dome. 
And brought the wayward heart back to its 

home. 
How eye and ear the spirit captive held! 
Transported by angelic wings along, 
How pride was crushed those worshippers 

among. 



*5 



THE CATHEDRAL'S LESSON 
II 

Yet came I forth unsatisfied — alone. 
Though strongly felt that mystic atmosphere 
In tremblings of the soul and sudden tear 
To see the image of the Holy One, 
His forehead bleeding 'neath its thorny 

zone. 
Low at his feet a weeping woman, near 
All sorrow-stricken in her doubt and fear, 
Beneath her weary burdens bending prone. 

She rose at length. Those bleeding feet she 

pressed 
With trembling lips then passed out with the 

rest. 
Her loving impulse thrilled my being 

through, 
And following her I knelt in reverence too, 
We who apart had stood mid shadows dim, 
At heart were one ; because of love for Him. 



2^ 



NINETEEN HUNDRED AND TWO 

Linger, oh fateful year, nor onward sweep, 
How can I bear to watch thee o'er the brink 
Of that sheer wall 'neath which I cower and 

shrink 
Because thy lash of Sorrow bade me weep? 
Like spaniel soul beneath the blow I leap 
In terror from its smart; yet mutely think, 
How drear to let thee go ! the only link 
To that life-love, so beautiful, so deep I 

Time's ruthless haste how couldst thou not 

subdue ? 
Like a strong whirlwind dashing through the 

wood 
Cleaving great oaks, of which the first he 

stood. 
And foremost fell— that heart so leal and 

true. 
Oh year ! whose havoc Life can ne'er undo, 
Yet whose marked hours his spirit's victory 

knew ! 



29 



TO THE ALDINES 

On Their Thirtieth Anniversary 

For three times ten in harmony to dwell 

Means something in this world of change 
and chance, 

It action means, and purpose to advance 

The Good the Noble, and the false — expel. 

Its sentiment poetic who can tell? 

Three whole decades of life may joy en- 
hance 

Or sorrow smother, through such time's ex- 
panse 

But told in prose ; Work held its magic spell. 

But how to celebrate this regal Ten? 

The "Silver" past, the "Golden" far from 

view. 
The "Diamond," hidden from our mortal 

ken; 
This thought, oh friends of years, is left for 

you, 
When three decades in peace have passed, 

oh then 
Love needs no calendar — so tried and true. 



31 



CARMEN SYLVA 

On Seeing a Painting of Her Girlhood 

So fair of form and face, Roumanla's Queen! 
From over sea, my heart goes out to thee. 
With eager love and steadfast loyalty, 
And greets thee royal heir of Song's demesne. 
Upon that cheek the flush of rose is seen, 
A sculptor's envy those fair rounded arms, 
Eyes dark and downcast, free from love's 

alarms 
Untroubled by the cares of state — I ween. 

Although the flush has paled on cheek and 

brow 
And Time has writ his characters thereon, 
No thief of hours could steal the honors won 
In Mind's estate, — few amply dowered as 

thou. 
The gods have crowned thee with their gifts 

divine 
And thou dost reign — Roumania's queen and 

mine! 



33 



LOYALTY 



'Yond Ocean-spaces, one beloved bard 
Wrote to his brother — of the fervid pen, 
A sonnet for his natal day, and when 
Years speeding, one by one, brought fame's 

award. 
The gift poetic, fraught with love's regard, 
Fell at his feet the same. Its burden then 
Was ''Live oh friendF' "Our hearts have 

ever been 
Most true and tried, by tooth of Time un- 

marred." 

Kind heaven has listened that poetic prayer 
And spared both friends to taste of world- 
renown. 
Which they had nobly earned — for "Do and 

Dare," 
Their motto always, whether smile or frown 
The greeting of their fellows everywhere, 
While hand in hand they walked Life's vale 
adown. 



35 



LOYALTY 
II 

It matters little what the poet's name 
Or what his comrade's. But they live to-day, 
Beyond the seas, and send their embassy 
From heart to heart, in thought-waves just 

the same, 
Nor doth it matter whether praise or blame 
Their "Caesar food" strong faith in God 

their stay. 
'Tis Personality which holds alway 
Magnetic forces superseding fame. 

Oh, friend of years, 'tis thus I come to-day 
With voice and pen in greeting, to aver 
Love's loyalty from heart most true alway, 
As to a guide and soul-conservator. 
And ''Live oh liveF' unceasingly I pray, 
And teach heaven's wisdom, that I may not 
err. 



37 



TO THE "LONDON PUNCH" 

Thy scoff and jest Columbia has heard 
(Not undeserved, perhaps in braggart 

youth) 
Thy voice of satire knew but little ruth 
And woke again its echo, word for word. 
But now, whene'er the pencil or the pen 
Would hurl like missile from the Occident 
One thought, and all the force of wrath is 

spent 
Our choler hides, and peace returns again. 

Who laid the ''wreath on murdered Lincoln's 

bier," 
'Twas hand of thine, and thine the heartfelt- 
tear 
Who said "Columbia's sorrow is our own," 
When our loved Garfield gave his parting 

moan? 
And when McKinley, our lost leader slept, 
Your own beloved Queen our vigil kept. 

Disarmed we stand. Such hand-clasp in our 

pain 
Has sheathed the sword, and all the rancour 

slain ! 

39 



EDWARD REX 
During His Illness 

A word has chilled Britannia's loyal heart 
With nameless dread. The question "Is it 

well?" 
Meets slow response. Men shrink beneath 

the spell 
Of fear and dread, they mutely stand apart, 
And gaze with faces blanched, and tears that 

start. 
Waiting they know not what, they cannot 

tell, 
''Le roi est mortf Oh God, not this the 

knell, 
We hear prophetic through the hurrying 

mart? 

Not King nor Master, only, but our Friend; 
Grown doubly dear through pathos of his 

pain. 
If Heaven shall will it, may he yet again. 
Be our loved Leader till his race shall end! 
How swift to follow while he leads the way. 
Oh Edward Rex! Our nation's strength and 

stay. 

41 



ALEXANDRA 

O SORROW ! Thou didst see the coming storm 
Which Love saw not. Nor strange when 

mortals weep 
That God should "give to his beloved sleep," 
For to all hearts thou art a phantom form. 
How, Sorrow, canst thou say thy name is 

Love? 
Thy name is Marah I for thy waters deep 
Sweep hope's foundations bare. Yet dost 

thou keep 
The key which opes the gates to joys above. 

Is it that this sweet angel at thy side 
Blest human love is mortal, though so dear? 
Immortal thou? That this terrestrial sphere 
Gives all its sable clouds thy form to hide? 
Heaven's child transformed the graves of 

earth beside? 
O love ! O sorrow ! stand beside thy dead, 
And speak God's peace to her whose light of 

life has fled! 



43 



THE WIFE'S LAMENT FOR HER 
HUSBAND 

How have I hungered for the days of June, 

The month of bird and rose and springing 
vine, 

With all the joys which youth and Hope en- 
shrine, 

When life's glad purpose seems with heaven 
in tune 

But now, alas ! I crave not such a boon 

The month has brought such ill. No sun 
can shine. 

For Sorrow's dregs have poisoned life's red 
wine. 

No more my heart can sing its gladdest rune. 

So close the calendar. Let night apace 
Speed with its shadows over porch and door. 
For o'er this threshold never, never more 
Can come that form to meet my fond em- 
brace, 
Oh travesty of life! Love's banner furled 
What joy can dwell in this untoward world? 



45 



THE DISMANTLED CHRISTMAS 
TREE 



I looked upon a row of exiled trees 

Massed In a group beside a city wall 

Their slender arms were drooping one and 

all, 
Caressed no longer by the summer breeze, 
But cowering from the winter's embassies 
Of storm and hall beneath their snowy pall 
All rent and torn In their untoward fall 
These woodland treasures, born the world 

to please. 

Oh why this slaughtered host? I questioned 

then 
That graced the hillside In their beauteous 

youth 
Uncared for, slain, without regret or ruth. 
And no renewal where their place had been. 
Sad answer came from devastated plain 
We know not why those multitudes were 

slain ! 



47 



THE DISMANTLED CHRISTMAS 
TREE 

II 

Then spake a mother, in abashed disclaim, 
*' 'Twas for the babes, 'tis their deHght to 

see 
The glittering gifts that decked that with- 
ered tree, 
Hence this dismantled host, you must not 

blame." 
Now spoke the Forester, the man of fame 
Loved by Persephone, elusive dame; 
"If trees were mushrooms growing speedily, 
'Neath summer suns, from fire and tempest 

free; 
But these, — a whole decade of growth, they 
claim ! 

Oh never yet a babe was sent to earth 
But might be taught by tender mother's care, 
To love the sweet hamadryad spirits, where 
They with their sylvan brothers had their 

birth. 
On hillside home, where all their kindred 

grew 
By winds caressed, that never axe-stroke 

knew. 

49 



THE ASSASSIN 

Why this mad envy of the crowned head? 

This strange distrust which marks the hon- 
ored knight 

As target for all ills earth-wrongs incite? 

'Tis fevered blood by former ages shed. 

Oh ''fools and blind!" by envy dumbly led, 

The being crazed who seeks his friend to 
smite 

Would turn and rend the hand that guides 
aright 

Still more and more if every king were dead! 

Could kingless realms the balm of peace in- 
stil 
In hearts that have pre-natal taint and scar, 
Induced by ages of embittering war, 
Of greed for conquest, of wild craze to kill? 
For long past wrongs no present wrong 

atones. 
Guard well the ancient rights of Kings and 
thrones. 



51 



BETWEEN LAKE AND RIVER. 

The sound of waters fretting on the shore, 
The hum of insect life, the droning bees 
A sound of whispering winds among the 

trees 
And dancing sunshine at the open door, 
A woodland lake, beneath the hills asleep, 
Upon its crystal depths a boat at rest. 
Two silent forms in eager earnest quest 
Where speckled trout in gladsome pastime 

leap. 

Blithe nature here presents her fairest face. 
Bright birds on every bough, all unafraid. 
Sweet fern and trillium beneath the shade 
And sunlight flecking all the fragrant space 
But best of all, enhancing all the rest 
Dear Friendship dwells, — of life the crown 
and crest. 



53 



TO ONE WHO HAD LIVED A CEN- 
TURY 

A smiling infant at the century's birth, 
Gifted and honored at the century's close, 
Holding hearts captive in her charmed re- 
pose. 
The friend— the more than friend — of 

matchless worth, 
Within this span of years through grief and 

mirth, 
Through woe and weal, the tide of Being 

flows 
Gifts great and manifold earth-life bestows 
And in Heaven's plan no prescience of 
dearth. 

What now perceives her spirit in its course 
On upward wing through those translucent 

waves, 
The secrets of the stars? Of light the 

source ? 
The meaning of this strange electric force 
Which we call Life — and try to read its 

staves 
Until its melody our soul enslaves? 



55 



A MYSTERY 
I 

A presence from my home has passed to-day 
And left a silence. 'Twas not human friend 
Nor voiced our human speech. Yet do I lend 
A plaint of grief which Time can scarce al- 
lay. 
A prisoned soul from wondering orbs looked 

out 
And met the soul in mine, with mute caress 
And reciprocity of tenderness, 
Wherein there lay no human dole nor doubt. 

And why, oh why, may thought not pene- 
trate 
The mystery of this life's imprisonment 
And wrench the secret. Why to Being lent, 
If Death that Being could annihilate? 
From those deep eyes immortal spirit shone 
That seemed but one degree beneath my 
own. 



57 



A MYSTERY 
II 

'Tis love omniscient breathes the soul in 

man, 
And corporeity is made to change 
To some ethereal substance, in the range 
Of endless being. This is nature's plan. 
So never lost is any spark or ray 
Of love's compassion. They who watch and 

wait 
In their magnetic circles near heaven's gate 
In eager spirit search through space, may 

say. 

Most humbly wise, by heaven's blest wis- 
dom taught 

"The soul of bird or beast passed by this 
way 

And entrance meekly, wistfully besought." 

But who for this mute soul has ransom 
brought? 

Then Love might answer Love the marvel 
wrought. 

And made that soul immortal. Bid it stay! 



59 



RICHARD WATSON GILDER 

What calendar Is thine, O year of years, 
How many of our noblest passed from earth, 
How many made Immortal since Its birth. 
Set free to learn the marvels of the spheres ! 
Yet not one poet-soul of nobler girth 
Nor more beloved and mourned; A na- 
tion's tears 
Fall at thy passing; nay two hemispheres 
Give pause the while, acknowledging thy 
worth. 

Twelve moons before, our Stedman passed 

from sight; 
Then Swinburne, as Its dawn sped over sea; 
Then Meredith, with all his honors dight. 
Masters and lovers of pure minstrelsy. 
Thy reverent soul could win a grander 

height 
And Song's renascence through the ages see. 



6i 



THE RESCUED PALISADES 

Sing in thy course, oh Hudson to the sea ; 
The Palisades, thy bulwark for all time. 
Since never-more man's greed those heights 

may climb 
Or rob the generations, yet to be. 
Immortal Irving, spake in prophecy. 
And Washington, who loved those shores 

sublime 
And Fulton, with his Clermont's throb and 

rhyme 
Warriors and poets, all paid court to thee. 

But none could know this metamorphosis, 
To later eyes, ''A garden of the Lord." 
Where bird and babe may feel the zephyr's 

kiss, 
And glorious trees keep sylvan watch and 

ward. 
Roll on, oh Hudson, in thy majesty. 
For * 'Laughing Water," thy song-name 

shall be ! 



63 



LEGEND LORE 

The Pansy 

The legend tells how once a Seraph passed 
O'er earth's fair field with wing of gossamer, 
And, resting underneath a lordly fir 
By human strife and clamor unharassed, 
He knelt to reach a stream by sunshine 

glassed 
As man might do to slake a mortal thirst. 
When from a scarlet throated singer burst 
Such liquid notes: " 'Tis paradise at last!" 

"But no, 'tis mundane. Here my pansy child. 
My flower of earth, by jealous leaflets kept." 
He bade her wake, whose heart so long had 

slept 
Then kissed her lips. She knew her Lord, 

and smiled. 
And ever those who love, can find a trace 
On velvet petal of that angel face ! 



65 



THE POPLAR 



Down where the rainbow rests within the 

sea 
Where Iris guards Earth's hidden gems and 

gold, 
Where ivory palaces hold wealth untold, 
A mortal strayed, this wonder-world to see. 
Some iridescent gleam, he saw with glee 
And, yielding quickly to his fierce desire 
To own the bauble with its crimson fire. 
He grasped, then fled, in stealthy misery. 

The wondrous thing purloined, he dared not 

hold. 
For Iris from her rainbow-pillar knew 
What mortal hand profane had dared to do 
And straight her sun-god of the deed was 

told 
The fleeing mortal threw his treasure-trove 
Deep in the darkness of a poplar grove. 



67 



THE POPLAR 

II 

But soon the sun-god smote each quivering 

leaf 
To find where this forbidden gem was cast 
And from Aurora's face the shadows passed 
While Iris saw and praised her valorous 

chief. 
At once the poplar, to their fond relief, 
Held wide his arms, and lo, in foliage massed 
Down fell the gold. The culprit found at 

last. 
The Sun-god smiled, but said, "not thou the 

thief." 

But for complicity in other's wrong 
Thou hast heaven's censure met, yet art for- 
given 
By lightning stroke no bole of thine be riven. 
But upright branch and limb to me belong. 
And on each shining leaf this vein of gold, 
My crest and signet, mortals may behold. 



69 



THE ANGELUS 

What, in this canvas story, thrills each sense ? 
Not field of furze, nor landscape peaceful, 

still. 
Nor sunset glory o'er the purpling hill ; 
Nor mystic veil of twilight, deep, Intense, 
Nor treeless plain, nor distant chapel spire, 
Nor simple peasants at their homely ploy, 
Could thrill our souls with such unwonted joy, 
Of heavenward aim and rapturous desire. 

But 'tis deep reverent awe scarce understood. 
Fervor intensified by time and place, 
Deep love and rapture on the maiden face. 
Embodied worship. Faith's beatitude ! 
Our deepest human need is pictured there, 
And all the world Is thrilled by that unspoken 
prayer. 



71 



n 10 ^-^11 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 
MAR 10 1911 



LIBRARY 




